


Silver Crimson Black

by sweetlikesugar



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Character Study, Gen, How is this not a tag, Kevin Day Centric, Mention of Panic Attacks, Pre-Canon, implied PTSD, innacurate exy descriptions, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 13:44:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20026789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetlikesugar/pseuds/sweetlikesugar
Summary: Kevin can barely stand. He keeps swaying from side to side, vision blurry. Whether it’s sweat or tears he doesn’t know, and he doesn’t want to know. All he knows is the sickening rage, boiling and curling like a poisonous snake. He’s mindless with it, he’s feral with it.





	Silver Crimson Black

**Author's Note:**

> come get y'all juice. i made a [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6YUQHXsZ7Cdy539bmA85iN) specifically for this so knock yourselves out 
> 
> (title taken from Silver Crimson Black by Zack Hemsey)

_ Swish. THUD. _

_ Swish. THUD. _

_ Swish. THUD. _

Kevin’s entire body aches. He’s been shooting at the empty goal for hours, trying to force his left hand to do his bidding. Sweat is pouring down his face and back, his arms feel like slabs of iron. 

He can’t stop yet.

_ Swish. THUD. _

_ Swish. THUD. _

“You’d think the air has learned its lesson” Andrew calls flatly from the bleachers. He’s been here just barely an hour, refusing to bear witness to Kevin’s masochistic tendencies for longer than that.

Kevin wipes his face with his shirt. “It would be over quicker if you came down here”.

Andrew scoffs, mouth twisted in disgust and lights another cigarette.

_ Swish. THUD. _

His lungs are on fire. Every inhale grates on his throat like sandpaper, every exhale borders on a sickly wheeze.

_ Swish. THUD. _

He may have sprained something. Or pulled a muscle. He doesn’t care right now.

_ Swish. THUD. _

He’s just so fucking pissed. 

_ Swish- _

“I can’t watch it anymore” Andrew sighs, longsuffering, and stands up from the bleachers. He stretches up until his spine cracks. “You’re fucking killing yourself. Again”. 

Kevin shrugs and regrets it immediately when the muscles in his back bunch painfully. He can probably go for another hour or two. He will, even if he can’t.

“I’m going in” Andrew ignores how Kevin perks up eagerly. “Maybe you’ll get tired when you realize you won’t score shit”.

Kevin doubts it. There’s a ferocious kind of anger that keeps gnawing at his bones. It’s a kind of anger Kevin hasn’t felt in a long time. The kind of anger that makes his blood thunder in his ears. 

The kind of anger born from exhaustion.

Andrew takes his place at the goal, apathetic as always. Unbothered. Kevin has twenty, maybe thirty minutes before Andrew’s patience for his suicidal self-destructive tendencies runs out.

_ Swish. _

The ball doesn’t hit the goal. He expected it, but it still makes the angry fire in his gut burn brighter.

_ Swish. _

Blocked. Again. 

_ Swish. _

Blocked. 

_ Swish. _

Blocked.

“Come on, Day. At least make it worth my while. I hate wasting time”.

Kevin’s lips curl in a snarl, teeth exposed like a rabid animal. His shoulders are screaming in agony, but the dissonant screeching in his head drowns it out. In this moment he’s never hated Andrew more. Logically, he knows this anger is not for the man at the goal. 

It’s never for Andrew. 

Nevertheless, the howling rage in his stomach demands an outlet. 

He swings again, left arm seizing momentarily, but it’s enough to ruin his shot. Andrew catches it without any effort.

“Are you done?”.

It takes all of Kevin’s self-control not to scream. He needs some release, he needs to let go of at least some of that pent up aggression before he explodes.

He shakes his head quickly and rolls out his shoulders. The blaze of rage in his stomach cools down just a bit. 

Andrew’s gaze sharpens and he shifts a little. 

_ Swish. _

Blocked. This one took the tiniest amount of effort. It makes Kevin’s snarl curl up at the corners.

_ Swish. _

Blocked. 

It feels like Andrew has been blocking his shots for hours. Kevin is becoming frantic, the anger burning behind his ribs now spreading in a searing spill. He clenches his jaw tightly when his mouth floods with bitter saliva in response to his frustration. 

* * *

  


“How long have they been there?” Nicky asks from the top of the bleachers. 

“Kevin? At least four hours. I don’t know about Andrew, but I’m sure he hasn’t been inside for more than thirty minutes. He has no patience for Kevin when he’s like that” Aaron shrugs, scrolling through his phone. He glances at the plexiglass enclosure from time to time, curious.

“He better not die” Nicky worries his lower lip anxiously.

“Andrew will drag Kevin back from hell himself if need be”.

* * *

Kevin can barely stand. He keeps swaying from side to side, vision blurry. Whether it’s sweat or tears he doesn’t know, and he doesn’t want to know. All he knows is the sickening rage, boiling and curling like a poisonous snake. He’s mindless with it, he’s feral with it. 

Andrew stands at the goal, stoic as ever. Unfeeling. Kevin wonders if Andrew even feels anything anymore, and then thinks better of it. He knows exactly how Andrew shows his feelings, how his loyalty manifests when needed. 

His left hand cramps painfully and he grunts, trying to glare the offending appendage into submissiveness. 

“Come on” Andrew rolls his eyes. “You can’t even use your hand anymore. Call it off”.

“Fuck you”.

He can’t stop. Not yet. Not when he hasn’t accomplished anything, not when he’s not even a step closer to being who he used to be before Riko crushed all his dreams and aspirations along with his arm.

It’s too much. He’s so fucking angry he can barely breathe, the nausea-inducing fury squeezing around his throat like a noose. 

He takes a run-up, switching his racket to his right hand at the last second. 

_ Swish. _

  


He’s tired of being afraid. So fucking tired. Almost every night he wakes up in cold sweat expecting to see a bloody pulp instead of his left hand, again and again. He’s tired of panic attacks, tired of being a nobody, tired of being treated like he’s just one practice away from a complete mental breakdown.

He’s done. He’s done being afraid and he’s done hiding. He’s done choking himself, downplaying his abilities just so that Riko can have the first place. 

He’s done being number two. 

It’s time to turn that shit around. He will break himself and put himself back together as many times as it takes. He will become number one.

It’s time to make Riko afraid of _him. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ THUD. _

  


Kevin’s head snaps up in disbelief. He’s sure he imagined the sound. He looks at Andrew. The goal burns red.

Someone is screaming in the bleachers. Kevin turns to the side to see Nicky shake Aaron so vigorously, that the blond has troubles staying upright, until he finally tumbles to the ground, yelling curses. 

Andrew looks at him peculiarly, head tilted to the side. Something dark and lusty glimmers in his eyes. A slow grin tugs his lips up, teeth bared. It’s more wicked than anything.

Kevin’s body burns with something other than rage.

“Took you long enough, pretty boy” the words are dripping with satisfaction.

Kevin answers him with a vicious smile. 

**Author's Note:**

> spare comment ma'am? hit me up on [ tumblr ](https://mindlesslittlefreak.tumblr.com) if you wanna talk


End file.
